


Too hot (hot damn!)

by irisdouglasiana



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Post-Season/Series 02, guess who just took a plunge down into the trash can, pretty light on the plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:52:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/pseuds/irisdouglasiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If one more person tries to tell her about the so-called dry heat in Los Angeles, Peggy swears she’ll punch them. It is just too bloody hot. Fortunately, Daniel has a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too hot (hot damn!)

If one more person tries to tell her about the “dry heat” in Los Angeles, Peggy swears she’ll punch them. It is too bloody _hot_. Before noon, the thermometer reads well over 100 degrees (Fahrenheit, that is; of course Americans require their own ridiculous system), as it has for the past three days. There isn’t even a trace of breeze to cool things off.

A power outage at the SSR has Peggy working out of Daniel’s home on this latest case, but the stifling heat has made for slow progress. Sitting across the kitchen table from her and poring over interrogation transcripts, Daniel looks similarly miserable as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. She can practically see the gel melting out of his hair.

“Looking at something interesting, Peg?” he asks without glancing up from the transcript.

She puts her head on the table. “Too hot,” she mutters.

“Me too.” He puts down the file and pushes himself up with his crutches. In this heat and in the absence of needing to go anywhere, he’s foregone the prosthesis. Peggy is secretly gratified that he’s comfortable enough around her to do this, even though they only started dating two months ago. He tilts his head towards the bedroom, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” Peggy grumbles, but she follows him anyway.

Daniel’s bedroom is fairly small, but as she’s discovered lately, there’s plenty of room on his bed to accommodate both of them. He leans his crutches against the wall and gestures for her to sit down next to him. “Turn around,” he says.

She obliges, shivering a little as he swiftly unbuttons her dress. His fingers are warm against her back as he lifts the dress over her head, leaving her in just her slip. He pushes her hair to the side and plants kisses down her neck and shoulders. Peggy bites back a small moan. She supposes she shouldn’t be too surprised at how much he likes taking charge in these situations. Or by how much she likes this side of him.

He gently pushes her onto her stomach. “Wait here,” he says, getting up again. “I’ll be back in a minute. And close your eyes.”

She pouts but plays along, settling her face into his pillow and breathing in his scent. She starts to turn her head when she hears him return. “No peeking, Peg,” he reminds her.

“Daniel, there had better be a good reason for—” she breaks off and gasps as he presses an ice cube against her neck and draws it down her spine. “Oh!”

Without a word, he traces along her shoulders and arms next, leaving trickles of water on her skin. He then moves from her fingertips down to her legs until the ice melts. She props herself up on her elbows and turns to look at him. Daniel grins as he pushes the bottom of her slip up over her hips. “May I?”

“I’ll be very cross if you stop now.”

His smile widens as he tugs her panties down her legs, lowers his head, and gets to work. “Oh, bloody hell!” she whispers, dropping her head back down to the pillow to stifle a groan. He adds a finger or two and suddenly it becomes too much; she wants to enjoy it a little longer and not finish so quickly. “Slower,” she gasps, and he takes her cue. Peggy closes her eyes and shivers, letting the pleasure build. How on earth does he make her feel this good?

Finally, she can’t hold back anymore. She shudders and moans his name as she orgasms. She keeps lying on her stomach for a little longer after that, deeply satisfied. Daniel drops down beside her and she pulls him in for a lengthy kiss. They aren’t finished yet, oh no.

“On your back,” Peggy directs him. She can be bossy too. She begins with the buttons of his shirt, taking her time, starting from the bottom and working up. Impatiently, he starts undoing the buttons at the top. She gently smacks his hand away. “Why the hurry?” she teases. He rolls his eyes in response as she finishes with the last button.

By the time he’s slipped out of his shirt and discarded his undershirt along with it, she’s already moved on to his belt, and his pants are off in no time. Then she pauses. “Your turn now,” she says, before slipping off the bed and heading down to the kitchen to fetch more ice. When she returns, she can’t help but smile at the sight of him lying back, stripped down to his boxers.

“You like what you see?”

“Very much,” Peggy says. She touches the ice cube to the sole of his foot first, and is rewarded with a groan. She travels up his leg, past his knee, past his hip, before pausing to plant a few kisses towards the top of his right thigh for good measure. The topic of his leg was something she had been slightly nervous about in the beginning of their relationship, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Yet when push came to shove a few weeks later, she had almost wanted to laugh at herself for her trepidation—because that version of Daniel as he sat in front of her naked for the first time, watching her with such tenderness and warmth—that was the same Daniel she had known all along, and everything about his body was good, and he was good.

She continues on, tracing the ice cube along his stomach. He flinches when it touches his nipple, and she laughs and keeps moving up his chest. By that point, the ice cube is all but gone, and she ends there with a nibble on his ear. “What do you want, Daniel?” she whispers innocently.

“Come _on_ , Peggy,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Are you going to make me wait forever?”

Peggy doesn’t answer, but she pulls down his boxers instead and takes him into her mouth. He swears and grabs a handful of her hair. She goes slowly at first, enjoying the taste and his reaction, then gradually increases the speed and pressure until he’s squirming. He’s not going to last at this rate. That’s fine with her.

“Peggy,” he moans as she picks up the pace, “I’m going to—” and then he does, his entire body shaking and his grip on her hair tightening. He slumps back once he’s finished.

She wipes her mouth and flops over next to him. His hair is in utter disarray now, and she pushes it back from his forehead, admiring his profile. He opens his eyes and gazes at her for a moment before drawing her in for a kiss. Sometimes it still feels like she’s caught up in a wonderful dream—though no dream could measure up to this.

“Feeling cooler now, Peg?” he asks as they pull apart.

She lies down on her side and drapes an arm over his chest. Her slip is drenched in sweat; her hair plastered to the back of her neck. “Rather warm still, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, me too.” He turns his head to look at her and smiles. “The good news is that we have plenty of ice. And the rest of the day.”

She smiles back. Good news, indeed. If this is what the dry California heat brings, then she can’t say she minds it so much after all.

**Author's Note:**

> With encouragement from keysburg and truth_renowned, I have formally accepted my rightful place at the bottom of the peggysous trashcan. You're welcome.


End file.
